


To Sooth a Savage Breast

by Elswyth



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elswyth/pseuds/Elswyth
Summary: Some say the Inquisitor saved the world by driving a sword through the heart of Fen Harel.Still others claim that she tricked the God and beat him at his own game.Only a few know the truth. The Dread Wolf was tamed- enchanted by a song so serene that even the birds stopped singing to hear it. The story is beautiful, and becoming lost to the ages.





	1. What then am I?

The breeze lifted leaves gently from the forest floor. If one listened quietly, they would hear the quiet rustle as the ground settled and the wind died. That quiet rustle would be the only thing they heard, however, since the elf stalking her prey made no noise as she crouched into position. By the time her target heard the soft intake of breath, She had loosed her arrow. Her aim was true, and with a grunt the deer fell to the forest floor. She wiped a light sheen of sweat from her brow. It was warm in the Free Marches- and muggy. The elf grimaced as the wind changed and the coppery scent of blood reached her nostrils. She would need to dress the deer quickly and get it back to camp, or the smell would attract predators much larger than her. 

She hummed a tune as she worked. It was Dwarven, she thought- one she had heard the tradesmen whistling a few days ago. The men seemed to be in good spirits as they hauled packages into their caravans. She wondered if the humans felt the same calling in the music that she did. The tune reminded her of stone and mountains and ale, and she enjoyed being able to hum it in solitude. She rather thought her voice was too deep for the Elven tunes the camp often sang together, but that didn't stop Keeper Deshanna from insisting she join in every time anyway. Not that she minded, music was the one thing she always knew she could rely on. As she reached the end of the ballad, she looked over the remains of the deer that would be a part of dinner tonight. The elf deemed her work satisfactory (maybe a little rushed) and collected her things. The camp would be waiting, and being the Keeper's First didn't entitle her to skip out on preparations. 

That evening, she sat around with the rest of her clan as they spit roasted an entire boar that another one of the hunters has brought back. Her deer ended up being processed for jerky. She was a little surprised. She didn't think that they would be moving on so soon, but when she had returned to the camp she noticed that Keeper Deshanna's aravel had already been packed up. She assumed the rest would be done tomorrow. 

"Hey, Lavellan!" 

The elf turned at the sound of someone calling to her. It was Varis, a warrior. He was one of many who preferred her surname, since her first name was a little lengthy and difficult to pronounce. 

"What?" She called back.  
"Deshanna was looking for you- said to tell you to bring your staff."  
She groaned. "I can't even get one night off?" Varis gave her a half-hearted shrug and a smirk. Lavellan ignored the growling in her stomach and- giving the roast one last longing look- trudged off to the Keeper's aravel, grabbing her staff from her things as she went.

The Keeper was waiting patiently- or so it seemed. Lavellan knew by now that Keeper Deshanna was much less patient than she let the others believe. "The key to inspiring confidence in others is to inspire it in yourself," Deshanna told her once. Lavellan knew that that was Keeper talk for, "Fake it until you make it." As she got closer to the older elf, Lavellan noticed a wary look in Deshanna's eyes. She had seen it before.

"Why do you look like you're about to shatter my hopes and dreams again?" Lavellan asked. Deshanna closed her eyes and took a break before answering.  
"Probably... because I am about to shatter _my_ hopes and dreams?" Lavellan cocked an eyebrow and Deshanna opened her eyes. The older elf shook her head and turned around to fiddle with something on the ground.  
"Keeper..." Lavellan began, but she already knew what Deshanna was holding. It was a travel pack. She changed the direction of her question. "Are you going somewhere?"  
"No," Deshanna answered, "I'm afraid you are." She held the pack out in front of her. Lavellan took it cautiously.  
"What? Why? Where?"  
"So many questions. I wish there was a better way. As much as it pains me, you are the best suited for this... position," Deshanna grabbed another pack from her aravel and helped Lavellan get it onto her shoulders.  
"Position?"  
"You are attending the human conclave. As a spy." Deshanna explained.  
Lavellan was slightly stunned. Leave it to Deshanna not to mince words. News of the conclave had reached them only a few days prior. The humans were trying to broker peace between the circle mages and their Templars. She vaguely remembered that it was taking place somewhere to the south.  
"Okay," Lavellan answered dumbly, "Again- what?"  
Deshanna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is this not what you wanted? To play the Orlesian's 'Game'? Well, now is your chance. We must know what is happening. If the Templars gain the favor I fear they hope to... if mages are to be hunted like they were in Kirkwall..." Deshanna trailed off as she began packing more bags into her aravel.  
"Keeper, those were the fantasies of a girl who was talented with strings and witty prose. I have grown past that!" Lavellan attempted to argue, but she shrank as the Keeper met her eyes with a knowing look.  
"You did not let go of those fantasies so long ago that your skills have been lost. Don't think I don't hear you, singing the songs of men and dwarves. I can see the wishes in your face as plainly as I hear them in your voice." Deshanna's words were curt, but her tone was gentle- almost remorseful. Deshanna knew that the life of a First was never what the younger elf wanted for herself.  
A poignant moment hung between them as Lavellan processed what was happening.  
"Am I to be a servant?" She finally asked.  
The keeper scoffed. "With vallaslin marked in your skin? No, I think a mercenary will be safe enough. No magic, use daggers or a bow if you must. The trip to the Frostback Mountains will be a long one, and it is too easy to become numb to your surroundings." Deshanna punctuated her orders by locking the aravel shut. She placed her hands on Lavellan's shoulders. "My First- I wish this responsibility did not fall to you. I wish the humans could solve their problems without war and strife. But it does, and they cannot. I wish you well. Dareth Shiral." 

"Dareth Shiral, Keeper. Mythal'enaste." 

Within the hour she was on her way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Her Dalish armor had been replaced with a ragged cloth tunic and pants, and her staff was safely hidden among the many items in her aravel. 

It would be the last time she would hear the hoof beats of a halla for a very, very long time.


	2. O force of constant Woe!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beginning.

" _Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now._ "  
Her head was pounding. She opened her eyes slowly only for her vision to swim with lights and spots. Vaguely, she registered that her hands were bound and the floor was cold- a dungeon, then. She tried to see the source of the harsh voice ringing around her, and once her vision cleared she focused on a woman with short, dark hair stalking the room around her. She continued her tirade without giving Lavellan a chance to defend herself.  
"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for _you._ " The woman's words were laced with venom. Fragmented memories began to rebuild themselves in the elf's mind. She couldn't remember an explosion, but that would explain the pain in her temples. Lavellan waited to see where this would lead- The last thing she needed to do was incriminate herself, and she didn't need to explain herself to any _shem_. 

When it became clear that Lavellan wasn't going to answer, the woman grabbed her bound wrists roughly and- as though she knew what Lavellan was thinking- spat, "Explain _this_." 

At her words, Lavellan's hand sparked and burned like a hot poker. The crackling was punctuated by a flare of green light. In the pain, she forgot her resolve and stuttered, "I- I can't!"

" _What do you mean you 'can't'_?" The woman demanded.

"I mean I don't know _what_ that is, or how it got there!" Lavellan panicked and her thoughts reeled: Was her magic broken? Was that even possible? What kind of First glows like a beacon- drawing every Templar to their clan to destroy them? Could it be hidden with gloves? 

She almost didn't see the dark haired woman lunging towards her. " _You're lying!_ " Lavellan didn't even try to defend herself- if this was the end, so be it. She braced herself for a strike that never came. 

"We _need_ her, Cassandra!" 

Lavellan looked for the source of the soft, lilted voice that rang through the dungeon. She understood why she didn't spot the other woman once it became clear who she was.

Leliana- the _Nightingale_ \- was here, in a dank hole, stopping a madwoman from murdering an elf. Lavellan sat there stunned as Cassandra seemed to acknowledge the truth of the bard's words. Lavellan was officially sure she had lost her mind.

"I don't understand..." Lavellan murmured aloud. Her voice echoed throughout the chamber.

Leliana approached the elf. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” She demanded.

Lavellan wasn't stupid enough to fight the Nightingale. “I remember..." She struggled to piece together her memories. A few, stray thoughts started to knit themselves together. She recognized green and black blurs, adrenaline, and screaming. "...running. _Things_ were chasing me. And then…" A lone figure stood out in her mind's eye like a golden beacon. "...a woman?” She realized with a start that she had not been alone, wherever she had been, but she was alone now. What happened to the woman?

Leliana's face betrayed nothing. “A woman?” She prompted.

“She reached out to me, but then…” Lavellan's thoughts were too jumbled. Her head ached fiercely. The more she tried to remember, the more the memories seemed to be slipping away. She clung to the beacon- the woman. Who was she? 

Lavellan heard Cassandra's clear voice ring out. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” 

The elf focused on the two women in time to see Leliana give Cassandra a curt nod, and then the bard disappeared. 

"What _happened_?" Lavellan asked. Cassandra helped her to her feet, unchaining her wrists as she did so. Lavellan almost thought her hands were finally free, until the brunette replaced the shackles with a heavy rope. 

"It will be easier to show you," Cassandra responded. Her voice sounded defeated. She led Lavellan through a few twisting, dimly lit hallways before coming to a stairwell. With a slight push, she urged the elf upwards. Lavellan didn't have time to take in the large sanctuary they exited into before Cassandra was shoving her through a large, wooden doorway. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light, and then stared directly at the sky as she realized what was hanging there.

Gone were the snowy, grey clouds that had blanketed the world around the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Gone was the twinkling of soft sunlight that hinted at warmer seasons. Instead, the serene skies had been replaced by a violent, veridian maelstrom. 

Lavellan continued to stare as Cassandra's voice rang out from behind her. “We call it the Breach," Cassandra explained, "It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

The elf was stunned. “An explosion can do that?”

“This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

As if her words were a signal, the Breach cracked and splintered. As the rift shifted, a sharp, searing pain surged in Lavellan's arm. She grabbed her wrist and dropped to the ground as the sensation became nearly unbearable. Her vision swam, and the human woman gripped her by the shoulder to keep her upright. 

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads," Cassandra's words were firm, but Lavellan heard what sounded like desperation threatening to creep towards the surface. She shook the elf lightly to help her focus before continuing, "-and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Lavellan didn't need a healer to tell her that the warrior's words were the truth. Every time the Breach shifted, she could feel her bones and muscles beginning to shatter. If she didn't do something- and soon- she worried that the damage would spread beyond her arm. There were other worries, though. What if the Breach _did_ swallow the world? What of her clan? 

When things stopped spinning around her, Lavellan responded, "You say it may be the key." She paused, but asked her next question even though she was almost certain of what the answer would be. "To doing what?”

“Closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours.” 

Of course. Lavellan heard the warning behind the woman's words. _"Do this, or we all suffer,"_ She seemed to say. Though Lavellan had a feeling that if she refused, Cassandra would make sure _she_ suffered especially. 

"You can't really believe that I did this to myself," Lavellan sighed, "Or to the world. What would I have to gain by blowing myself up?"

Cassandra's nostrils flared slightly. “Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong.” 

Lavellan had a sneaking suspicion that nothing she said would make a difference. “And if I’m not responsible?” She demanded.

“ _Someone_ is, and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.” The brunette declared with an air of finality. Lavellan tried to stand.

“I understand,” The elf did her best to make eye contact. She would _make_ them believe she was innocent.  
Cassandra seemed stunned. “Then…?”  
Lavellan pulled herself to her full height. The effect was slightly ruined by the much taller Cassandra standing beside her. “I’ll do what I can. Whatever it takes,” She explained. 

The warrior nodded, and made sure Lavellan was good to walk before continuing on to their destination.

The trip to the forward camp was less than inspiring for Lavellan. Cassandra told her that the masses of the faithful had already decided that she had killed the Divine and blown up the Temple. Idiotic, if you asked her. Why would a Dalish elf risk their lives just to upset some religious shems? She kept her thoughts to herself, but couldn't help but bristle when a man spat at her feet. 

Cassandra surprised her by leveling a stare at the offending person. When he shifted uncomfortably, she stopped Lavellan from continuing to walk ahead. Lavellan looked at Cassandra quizzically.  
“We lash out, like the sky," The woman spoke with an almost romantic undertone, before shifted back to her usual no nonsense mannerisms, "But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed.” Cassandra pulled a dagger, and Lavellan flinched before she realized that the ropes binding her hands had fallen away. She stared at the angry red marks on her wrists. "There will be a trial," Cassandra explained, "I can promise no more."  
Lavellan nodded, and followed Cassandra as she pushed her way through the crowds. On the way, Cassandra explained that the entire valley had been laid to waste. When the mark on her hand flared with pain again, Cassandra seemed much more willing to support Lavellan as she grimaced her way through it. Apparently, Lavellan's fragmented memories had gotten one thing right- there were claims that she had exited a fade rift, heralded by a glowing woman. Lavellan got the feeling that Cassandra was holding something back, but she didn't push the issue. They continued the journey up the mountain with a slightly easier tension than they had before. 

Of course, the peace between them did not last long. A bridge was hit with a blast from the Breach, sending the two women flying onto the frozen lake below. Two demons dropped from the sky, and as Cassandra engaged one of them, Lavellan was left to deal with the other. She almost reached across the veil to manifest an arcane bolt, but the keeper's advice echoed in her mind. She let go of her magic, and frantically looked for anything to use to defend herself. She was relieved to see a broken crate of less-than-mint-condition bows and arrows laying among the wreckage not to far from her. She made a mad dash to grab a weapon, sloppily knocked an arrow, and turned to face the advancing enemy. She was grateful that her muscle memory took over and she loosed the arrow almost immediately, because when she had a chance to focus on her target, she was frozen in fear. 

Demons were something that young mages in clans told campfire stories of. They were far away, and not usually drawn to the Keepers and their Firsts for whatever reason. Deshanna explained once that the Dalish limited the number of mages they had in each clan to avoid drawing the attention of Templars. Lavellan wondered if it wasn't also to avoid the attention of demons. Oh, Lavellan had been warned of the dangers of possession. She knew to ward her dreams and be wary of travelling the fade. She thought that as long as she maintained a strong will, she would never see a demon in her lifetime. Even if she did, she thought demons were supposed to be... tantalizing. The only possessions she had ever heard of required the vessel to _invite_ the demon into their body. Lavellan realized now that she had been a naive fool.

The monster in front of her required no vessel to harm her. It wasn't her mind it was looking to destroy. The malice rolled off of the thing in waves, and Lavellan felt nauseated. Still, she knocked a second arrow, and raised her bow again with a shaky hand. With a deep breath, she released the bow string. She hit her mark in what she _thought_ was the creature's horribly deformed mouth. Thankfully, Cassandra had reduced her own enemy to ashes. She quickly helped the elf by lodging her sword into the demon's back, sending it back into the void.

The elf lowered her bow and let out an uneasy, "It's over," as she felt her shoulders droop. As soon as she relaxed, she noticed that the blade of a sword was pointed at her chest.

"Drop your weapon. Now." Cassandra was in a fighting stance. Lavellan knew that even if she tried, she wouldn't win that confrontation. 

Still, she couldn't help responding a little flippantly. "Fine," she said, "Have it your way." Lavellan knew she would be dead before they reached anyone else. Cassandra could fight the demons alone and get them both killed. 

Apparently, the warrior had reached the same conclusion. "Wait," She said, sheathing her sword. “I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless. I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.” 

Lavellan nodded and secured a quiver full of arrows on her back. The bow was simple, but it would do. As they continued on their path, Cassandra handed her a flask full of warm, reddish liquid- a healing potion. She pocketed it, hoping that the glass would hold together in her coat. 

A few demons later and Lavellan was officially _done_ with this entire situation. She was cold, she was covered in ichor, Cassandra was difficult, and her back muscles had been used more in the last hour than they had since she was a child. Using a bow constantly was not something she was used to, and she was beginning to feel it. She had just started staring at _yet another staircase_ they had to climb when Cassandra interrupted her internal monologue. 

"We are getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting." The woman had already begun the trudge up the steps.  
Lavellan cocked an ear. She heard the unmistakable sounds of metal on metal, and the sound of demons returning to the fade that she didn't think she would ever be able to forget. Under all of that though, she could hear the crackle of magic. 

"Wait," Lavellan said, but the woman didn't stop her ascent. The elf caught up and continued, "Who exactly is fighting?" If she didn't know any better, she would say she was certain a mage numbered among those they were going to meet. 

"You'll see soon enough," Cassandra replied. Lavellan was a little chuffed to hear no signs of exertion in the human's voice. She felt like her lungs were about to explode. Together, they climbed over some rubble to join the others in battle.

The rift shone with the same greenish hue that now encompassed the sky. It was... strange, to say the least. Lavellan could almost see an image through the threads that were splitting in the veil. It was like trying to see stars that only twinkled on the edges of your vision. 

The elf chose her targets carefully, only aiming for demons that looked close to crossing into the fade. She tried her best not to draw attention to herself, but it was almost impossible. She had just loosed an arrow into yet another target when a shriek echoed from her left. She whipped to face the sound and braced herself, waiting for the demonic claw to knock her to the ground. However, instead, she heard a low _thwump_ , and a crossbow bolt protruded from the monster's chest. 

She had just enough time to register that the fight was finally over when an Elven man roughly grabbed her arm. 

"Quickly, before more come through!" He urged, holding her hand towards the rift. As if her hand knew what it needed to do, she felt it begin to splinter again, and the rift slowly stitched itself back together. As the last thread pulled into place, the rift closed with an audible crack that Lavellan felt echo down her arm. 

She clutched her hand to her chest and rubbed it until the pain subsided. She eyed the other elf suspiciously. "What did you do?" She demanded.

He bowed his head in a way that she supposed was supposed to be humble, but the proud set in his shoulders and the direct eye contact he made with her ruined the effect. " _I_ did nothing," He replied, "The credit is yours."  
She eyed him critically. The man was taller than any elf she had met- better fed, too. She would almost label him a city dweller, but city elves had a weird way about them (broken, desperate...) that he lacked. 

She hummed in response. "At least this thing is good for something," She replied lightly. 

The other elf nodded in agreement. “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.” She noted that he really was trying to sound modest, and failing miserably. The corners of his mouth had the slightest smirk. She doubted that he ever believed his theory would be wrong. Lavellan thought the bald elf was rather amusing. He reminded her of Deshanna, always trying to play the role of Keeper. 

Cassandra approached the two, joining their conversation. “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.”

The amusing elf acknowledged her comment with another nod. “Possibly.” He turned his gray eyes back towards Lavellan, and said, "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." She raised an eyebrow. Apparently he also had a flair for the dramatic. 

At that moment, the owner of the crossbow that had saved her earlier made his appearance. He was a dwarf, with reddish gold hair and an excess of jewelry. Lavellan noted with some curiosity that he didn't have a beard. “Good to know!" The dwarf's voice was warm and rough, but laced with an undercurrent of sarcasm. "Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever!” He approached the group with a swagger and gave an exaggerated bow. As he straightened, he introduced himself. “Varric Tethras," He said with a flourish, "rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tag-along.” Lavellan couldn't quite suppress a smile when Varric winked- _winked_ \- at Cassandra, who responded with a scowl. 

"Lavellan," She responded, "Not that anyone's asked me my name since I woke up." Cassandra had the grace to shift slightly uncomfortably, to her credit. Lavellan cheerfully ignored the other woman. "It's very nice to meet you, Varric."

The bald elf interjected with, “You may reconsider that stance, in time.” 

Varric chuckled and replied, “Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Solas.” The other elf- Solas- shook his head, and Lavellan could swear she saw the slightest roll of his eyes. 

“So," Lavellan changed the subject, "I closed the rift. What now?”

It was Cassandra that responded. “Now, we go to meet Leliana.” 

Varric clapped Lavellan on the back. “What a great idea!” He exclaimed.

Lavellan thought that if Cassandra could literally set things on fire with her gaze, Varric would be very warm right now. “Absolutely not," The brunette retorted. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

Cassandra merely scoffed, and an awkward pause filled the conversation. It was Solas who broke it.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions," Solas wanted to introduce himself formally, Lavellan supposed. He continued, "I’m pleased to see you still live.”

Varric, happy to indulge the change in conversation, added, “He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'”

"Oh," Lavellan responded, "That's..." She hadn't realized how badly she had been injured. She recalled his false modesty from earlier. "You seem to know a great deal about it all, Solas." 

"Solas is an apostate, well versed in such matters," Cassandra explained. Lavellan thought that was rather a hand wave of an explanation. 

Apparently the doubt showed on her face, because Solas added, "“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." He turned to Lavellan. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any _Circle_ mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.” He was a little too... eloquent, Lavellan thought, but something in the way he spoke reminded her of a lullaby. 

_Foolish thought, now of all times,_ she chided herself.

"Well," Lavellan said (perhaps a little too loud), "Then I owe you my thanks. How did you... stop me from dying?"

“Healing magic and minor wards," he explained, "but I fear your mark is now past the point where those can help you.” The look in his eyes spoke too closely of pity for Lavellan's comfort. 

She hid her sudden discomfort by crossing her arms and deflecting his gaze with another question. She didn't want to ask what _would_ help. "And when this is over? What will you do then? Surely you have better things to do than watch over a woman glowing green hand." 

Solas had a twinkle in his eye. "“One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not," he replied deftly. Lavellan's discomfort turned to confusion. What an odd man. She tilted her head at him, but he had turned to address the seeker. “Cassandra, you should know- the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage," -Cassandra's head whipped around to stare at Lavellan in disbelief, but Solas continued- "but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.” 

Lavellan froze, and counted to three. Forget odd, the man was a downright lunatic. 

" _You_ -" The brunette began, but thought better of her ire. She turned back to the bald elf. "You did not tell me that she was an apostate, Solas," she spoke flatly.

"Oh?" Solas responded lightly, "How odd. I thought you were already aware." Lavellan shuffled uncomfortably. She turned to look at Varric, who seemed thoroughly entertained by the entire exchange. 

Cassandra stared at Solas for a moment longer, and then decided to stalk off in the direction of some downed wooden beams. "We must get to the forward camp quickly,” She asserted. 

There was a brief pause, then Varric spoke up. 

“Well, Bianca’s excited!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! I don't really like the way some of the dialogue is worded for the PC in game, so bear with me as I let our Lavellan have her own personality. 
> 
> Also- I got kudos on the first chapter! It's nice to get feedback, so please feel free to comment if you have any thoughts on the story/ pacing/ structure/ etc. (Constructive criticism is appreciated too!)
> 
> Thank you so much!

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a phrase written by William Congreve, in The Mourning Bride. And yes, it is "breast" and not "beast."
> 
> I've never written a fanfiction before! This is probably going to angsty and dramatic with some humor thrown in. I haven't got it all planned out, but I figure we'll go where the wind takes us.
> 
> Dareth Shiral: Safe journey; a typical farewell.  
> Mythal'enaste: Mythal's Blessing


End file.
